


Coming Home

by readercat



Category: Wanted (2008), X-Men: First Class (2011) - Fandom
Genre: M/M
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2014-02-10
Updated: 2014-04-05
Packaged: 2018-01-11 20:06:30
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 4
Words: 5,212
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/1177368
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/readercat/pseuds/readercat
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Wesley Gibson comes home at last...</p>
<p> </p>
<p>04/05:  Added a bit to the end of Chapter 4 in honor of the Final Four game.  I'll most likely delete it after the game, but I just couldn't help myself.  Go 'CATS!!!</p>
<p>04/06:  Since the 'Cats WON last night I'll leave the extra bit in--even though it makes absolutely no sense to the story, lol.</p>
            </blockquote>





	1. Chapter 1

**Author's Note:**

> Been jonesing hard for some Wes fic but haven't seen much lately, so I had to do it myself. My apologies.  
> I'm not entirely sure yet about the Charles/Wes slash. I'll have to see where the story takes me. 
> 
>  
> 
> Let this be an open call for some Wes-fic. Pleeeeze...somebody! I'm hurtin' here!

     Wesley Gibson (born Wesley Xavier) sneaks in through the rear door of the Xavier mansion, where he remembered the kitchen to be located, the smell of baked goods telling him that he’s on the right track.  Half-expecting to encounter servants preparing a Christmas-y type feast, instead he sees _Charles_ baking, assisted by a strange man--a tall, lean, broad-shouldered, _handsome_ man.   On second look, though, it seems to be the stranger doing all of the actual baking.  Charles, it seems, is “helping” the poor bastard--in other words, laughing and chattering non-stop, covered in flour--and as inept in the kitchen as ever.

_‘It’s nice to know that some things never change,’_ Wesley snorts in his head.

     Charles’s head snaps around in surprise, his mouth forming an “O!” which is quickly replaced by an enormous grin.  “Wesley!”

     In spite of his pleasure at seeing his brother in person after so long, Wesley still keeps an eye on Mr. Stranger, noting how he immediately goes on high alert, attuned to the slightest change in Charles’s body-language.  _Interesting._

     Still grinning from ear to ear, Charles runs to Wesley, throwing his arms around him in a fierce, but floury, hug, laughing happily, “Wesley!  Wesley, I can’t believe you’re here!”

     Wesley hugs him back just as tightly, feeling complete and whole for the first time since he’d left Westchester, years before.  As he and Charles hold each other, just glad to be together again, Wesley glances over Charles’s shoulder to see Mr. Stranger looking a curious combination of shocked, suspicious, reluctantly jealous, and horny as hell.  Never one to let such an opportunity pass him by unexploited, Wesley gives him a knowing little smile and wraps his arms tighter around Charles and nuzzles his cheek against Charles’s hair.  When Mr. Stranger’s eyes nearly bug out, Wesley winks and blows him a kiss.

     Then putting the stranger out of his mind for the moment, he pulls away from Charles, but only enough that they can look at each other.  Still loosely embracing, they are nose to nose, foreheads resting together.  “I’m glad to be home, Charles.  I’ve missed you.”

     “How long are you staying?”  Even though Charles can’t hide the hope in his voice, Wesley appreciates that Charles doesn’t make things awkward by asking him to stay for good.

     “For as long as I can.  That’s all I can promise, Charles.”

     Looking serious (and, to Wesley, un-Charles-like), Charles asks him, “What are you running from, Wesley?”  The dark circles under Wesley’s eyes and the pallor of his skin from exhaustion and stress haven’t escaped Charles’s notice.

     Wesley doesn’t say anything out loud, but glances side-long, indicating Mr. Stranger.  _‘Can‘t talk in front of him.’_

     “You can talk in front of Erik,” Charles says out loud.

     This time, it’s Wesley’s mouth that forms a surprised “O!” and it’s Erik who winks and smiles smugly at Wesley.  Wes glares, and responds to Erik by turning his back ( _you‘re not a threat_ ), cutting Erik out of the conversation, even though he does continue to speak out loud.

     “I just need to hide out and lay low for a bit.  I won‘t put you or Raven in danger, though--if I think they’re that close to finding me, I‘m gone.”

     “Don’t lie to me, Wes.  If it wasn’t bad-- _really bad_ \--you wouldn’t have come back, would you?”

     Wesley closes his eyes in surrender.  “It was bad. It _was_ bad, but it’s almost over now, I promise.  I just need time for the dust to settle and to make sure that I got them all.”  He opens his eyes and looks into Charles’s, “And I really did want to see you again, Charles.  I haven’t missed this house, but I’ve missed you so much. You know why I had to leave.  It was just too dangerous for me to be around you anymore.  What if someone had mistaken you for me…?”  Suddenly trembling, he pulls Charles into an almost violent embrace and whispers, “If something had happened to you or to Raven because of me, I couldn‘t have lived with it--I‘d rather be dead than to have that on my conscience.”  He looks at Charles, pleading, “Please understand.”

     “I won’t claim to ever like or understand why you do what you do, Wesley,” Charles whispers back, “but I will _always_ love you.  And as long as I have breath in my body, you will _always_ have a place to run.  Never think otherwise.”

     Something in Charles words releases a tension that Wesley didn’t even know was there, making him almost collapse with relief.  Just hearing that that his brother still loved him in spite of their differences meant so much more than Wesley could ever express with words.  He moves Charles’s hand to his temple, then reaches up and places _his_ fingers on Charles’s temple and lets the feelings flow between them in the only way they had to express such complicated emotions.

     Just from the virtue of being twins, there was already a special bond between them, but with Charles being a telepath and Wesley being whatever he was, their relationship was closer and far more intense than anyone could imagine.  As children, they would sit together on the floor for hours just like that, doing nothing but communicating with each other--sharing their thoughts and feelings in a way that no one else would be capable of understanding.  Wesley was glad that they were still capable of it--especially considering the way that the paths of their lives had diverged:  Charles being a pacifist and teacher, and Wesley being an assassin.

     Wesley doesn’t need to see Mr. Stranger ( _Erik_ ) to know that he is still watching them.  He can practically feel the other man’s eyes boring into his back, making the area between his shoulder blades itch.  Just to fuck with the guy, Wes leans in and places a kiss on Charles’s forehead and draws him into another tight hug, which Charles snuggles into gladly.  _‘I’ve missed you so much, Charles,’_ he projects to his brother, breathing in his comforting scent.  _‘I’ve thought about you every day.’_

     “Well, Charles, are you going to introduce me to your doppelganger?”

     Wesley glares at the interruption, while Charles just laughs delightedly and pulls away to sling an arm around Wes’s shoulders.  “Erik, this is Wesley--my brother, in case you haven‘t guessed.  And Wes, this,” he waves a hand to indicate Erik, “is my boyfriend, Erik Lehnsherr.”

     “Boyfriend?!”  Wesley stares at Charles in shock, then turns back to glare at Erik, his eyes shooting daggers.  While Charles is nervously biting his lip, occupied with worrying about Wesley‘s reaction, Erik smirks and blows another kiss at Wesley.  ‘ _I’m going to fucking kill you!’_ Wesley’s eyes tell Erik.  ‘ _Bring it on,’_ Erik’s smirk tells Wesley.

     Charles looks shattered.  “Wesley…?  Does it bother you that I’m…?  That I‘m…,” he flaps his hands around helplessly, wounded blue eyes filling.  “That I’m gay…?” he finishes on a whisper.

     Wesley quickly grabs Charles by his shoulders, horrified.  “ _No!_ Charles, no! Of course not! _Never!_ ” His own wounded blue eyes filling as he asks _,_ “How could you even _think_ that!?”  _Especially since I am, too._

     “The way you looked at me when I said that Erik was my boyfriend…it was…” Charles trails off miserably.

     “It wasn’t that you’re gay, Charles.  I don’t care about that.  But, _him_ …?” Wesley says desperately, “C’mon, he‘s…he‘s…” (‘ _He’s absolutely perfect for you! It‘s not fair!’)_ “…he’s _tall_!”  Wesley winces and face-palms, while Charles gapes at him and Erik snorts with laughter.  _I can’t fucking believe I said that!_

     “Tall…?” Charles is looking at him strangely (and with good reason, Wes acknowledges), “ _That‘s_ your objection?  He‘s _tall_?!”

     Wesley can only look at Charles with pleading eyes, _‘In private, please. Not in front of_ him _.’_

     Charles doesn’t look happy, but after glancing at Erik, he finally nods.   _‘Alright, Wes.  We’ll talk in private.’_ His unhappy look softens into a gentle smile when he sees the profound relief on Wesley’s face.  _‘Oh, Wesley.  You know I can’t deny you anything.’_

     Wes is very careful not to project his next thought.  _‘Oh, if only that was true.’_


	2. 2

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Wesley reunites with Raven and inadvertantly does something that makes Erik slightly less hostile. Something which, in turn, leads to Charles getting a few things off his chest.

     Though Wesley still takes every opportunity to torture Erik by touching or brushing against Charles, he decides to play nice…well… _nicer_ anyway, for now.  After all, he’s going to kill the man later--the least he can do is be polite, for Charles’s sake.  Erik seems to be of a similar mind-set.  Maybe _that’s_ why Charles is so enamored with the guy--he reminds Charles of Wesley.  _Only taller_ , he thinks sourly, though he can‘t deny that the other man _is_ dangerously gorgeous.  Wesley would _kill_ for those abs.  It’s enough to make him wonder what would have happened if _he_ had met Erik first.  Silly thought, though.  He _knows_ what would have happened.  He would have fucked Erik and enjoyed it immensely, then killed him and come home to Charles.

     At the moment, they are still in the kitchen and Wes is brushing Charles’s hair back from his face, while they mock-argue over Wes allegedly getting flour on Charles’s nose.  “How can you even tell, Charles!?  You were already covered with flour when I walked in the door!”

     “I was not!”

     Even Erik has to snort at Charles’s denial of Wes‘s claim.

     “You, Charles Xavier, are a walking disaster in the kitchen, and you know it!”  Wesley deigns to acknowledge Erik, “Am I right or am I right?”

     Erik is forced to concede Wesley’s point, “You _are_ rather hopeless in the kitchen, Charles.”

     Wesley hugs a pouting Charles and kisses his nose, “But that’s ok.  Flour is a good look on you.”

     “Bastards!”

     Erik and Wesley’s uneasy truce is interrupted by a girlish shriek.  _“WESLEY!!!”_

     “Raven!”

     Raven runs up to Wesley to hug him, but he looks around like he doesn’t see her.

     “Hmmm…that’s strange.  I could have sworn I heard Raven, but I don’t see her anywhere! ”

     “Wes! I’m right here,” Raven snorts in irritation.

     He looks at her confused.  “You _sound_ like Raven, but you sure don’t look like her.  All I see is an ugly little blonde girl.”

     “Wesley!”

     “Hmmm…yeah, I hear that irritating little voice, but I don’t see my Raven…”

     “Wes!”  She finally flows into her blue form.

     Looking mock-surprised he grabs her up in a big hug, “Oh! _There_ she is!”

     “You ass!”  Raven laughs.

     “You know better than to hide that pretty blue face from me, Raven,” Wesley admonishes her.  “Never hide how beautiful you really are.”  As they hug again, he is startled to see that Erik’s sea-green eyes have warmed to something a little less arctic--or at least, a little less homicidal.  Indeed, if it were someone else looking at him like that, he might have even called the look _approving_.  Unfortunately, it’s too little, too late.  Wesley’s already decided that Erik is due for a dirt-nap and he knows better than to start getting attached to a target.

     “That’s what Erik’s always telling me,” Raven smiles at Erik, then glares at Charles, “Unlike _some_ people!”

     Charles looks at her, hurt.  “You know that I only want you to be safe, Raven!  It’s nothing to do with whether or not you’re pretty.  Why can‘t you understand that!?”

     “Erik and Wesley don’t think I need to hide,” Raven says defiantly.

     “They… _they_ …don’t…” Charles stammers.  Then finally he yells in frustration, “I love you Raven, but put some fucking clothes on!  I‘ve tried to be open-minded and respectful of your wishes because I want you to be happy, but I cannot take another day of looking at your naked tits!  I‘m one jiggle away from therapy!  Do you have any idea how fucking disturbing it is to walk into the kitchen, wanting nothing more than a relaxing cup of tea, only to be mooned by my _sister_?!  The _last_ thing I need to see before I sit down to breakfast is the sight of your naked arse bent over in front of the fridge!  And if I dare to say _anything_ , what do I get?” He adopts a high-pitched bitchy tone, “ _’Oohhh! Well,_ Erik _says that tigers shouldn’t cover up’_ or some whiney shite like that!  Well guess what?  _You’re not a tiger!_ And, anyway, do you know why tigers don’t cover up?   _Well!?_ Because tigers are aren’t fucking wandering about with their lady-bits hanging out!”

     Raven, Erik, and Wesley are all staring at him open-mouthed.  But he’s not done yet.  Not by a long-shot.  He’s got a few things to get off his chest.

     “You know,” Charles muses, “last night in bed, Erik said that _I_ was a tiger.”  He misses the death-glare that Wesley shoots Erik.  And Raven’s look of horror. “Maybe _I_ should stop covering up, too.  How would you like that, Raven?  Oh, shut up, Erik, I already know what you think!”  He looks at Raven, “Hmm, Raven?  How would you like me wandering about naked, all my bits jiggling about for your viewing pleasure?  Let you share in the joy of having to sit on the furniture where you know that my naked arse and tackle have been?”  Raven is looking a little green.  “What?” he asks innocently.  “You don’t like that idea, sister dear?  Did I put you off your feed?  Perhaps you‘d like to see _me_ bent ov--

     “STOP!!”  Raven begs.  “I get it!  I get it!  I’ll wear anything you want, just please stop!”

     “And _you_ ,” Charles continues, smoothly shifting his focus to Erik (who is looking distinctly uncomfortable--to Wesley‘s utter delight).  “Why in the _hell_ did you ever put that stupid idea into her head to begin with!?  I’ll bet if she was _your_ sister you wouldn‘t have been telling her that shite!  ‘ _Ooohhh, yes you’re a tiger! Rrrooowrrrr!  Now go wander about naked in front of this bunch of teenage boys, love’,_ what the fuck were you thinking!?!”  Charles runs his hands through his hair.  “You two nimrods have no idea what I’ve had to endure!”

     Wesley has been openly laughing at Erik, but abruptly sobers up when Charles whirls around to _him_. “ _You_ …we’re going to have a little talk, you and me.”  Erik’s snickrs at Wesley’s disgruntled expression cut off when Charles snaps, “Goodnight--Erik, you can sleep in your room tonight.  Goodnight, Raven.”

     Then he drags a now-smirking Wesley off to his room.

　

　

 

 


	3. Chapter 3

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Charles seriously pisses off Wesley. But it's for a good cause.

The next morning, Wesley wakes, yawning and stretching sinuously, unable to remember the last time he’d slept so well.  In truth, unable to remember the last time he‘d felt _safe_ enough to even sleep _decently_.  Smiling and still stretching like a cat, he rolls over, intending to snuggle up to Charles and get a few more minutes of sweet, precious sleep.  But Charles’s side of the bed is empty, then Wes hears the shower running.  He’s disappointed, but makes do with snuggling and snuffling Charles’s pillow (at least _it_ doesn’t whine that he’s hugging it too hard) then dozes off still smiling.

When Wesley wakes again, he feels remarkably refreshed and well-rested, even though he knows that he’d probably only dozed off for a few minutes.  He looks around, again disappointed that Charles is still nowhere to be found.  He hadn’t realized that he’d been holding his breath until he breathes a sigh of relief when he hears Charles’s voice in his head.

_“I’m sorry, Wesley.  I had some things to take care of this morning and didn’t want to disturb you.  You were sleeping so peacefully, I couldn’t bear to wake you.”_

_“Thanks for that--I needed the sleep.  But I still miss you.”_

He can feel Charles‘s smile.  _“Well, now that you’re awake, Sleepyhead, go and shower.  I‘ll be up in just a bit with some coffee for you.”_

Wesley laughs, catching Charles’s disgusted stray thought of _, ‘Passing up a perfectly good cup of tea to drink that stuff.  How can we be twins?”_

 

Wesley jumps up, stretches again, then eagerly heads for the shower--a hot, leisurely shower is nearly as rare as a good night’s sleep.  He enters the bathroom and stops short, nearly having an orgasm when he sees the fancy shower set-up.  It can’t even be technically called a shower--it’s what other showers want to be when they grow up.  _This_ shower is a regular shower’s wet dream.  “Oh, God, Charles! It has one of those steam… _thingies_ ,” he breathes.  And _temperature controls_.  And those rain… _thingies_ , and… _dual shower heads_.  And… _Oooh!_ (here, Wesley goes a bit shifty-eyed) one of those _hand-held shower thingies_.  Wesley strips out of his boxers so fast, he nearly trips himself as he lunges for the shower.

He steps in and fiddles with the temperature controls and _water pressure controls (Oh, God, yes!),_ getting everything just right _._ He closes his eyes and turns on the water, braced for the initial shock of cold… _but it doesn’t come_.  No, the water is _already_ _hot_.  Wesley has never loved his brother more than at this moment.  He shudders in ecstasy as hot water cascades over his body, his head falling back in pleasure.  It was incredible.  God, the water was perfect!  It even _tasted_ good!  Wait… _what!?_  It is only then that Wesley becomes aware that the water tastes and smells suspiciously like blue-raspberry Kool-Aid.  Oh FUCK, no!  He _didn’t_.  Wesley opens his eyes…

 

“CHARLES, YOU MOTHERFUCKER!!!  I’M GOING TO FUCKING KILL YOU!!!”  he bellows.

“Oh, pipe down, Wesley!  It’ll wash off.  Eventually.”

A furious Wesley whirls around to confront Charles.  _“WHY!?”_ he intends to ask _,_ but he can only stare open-mouthed at the sight of his very naked, very blue brother--who is leaning against the door-jamb, calmly sipping his tea.  Finally, Wesley sputters out, “Why are you BLUE!? And naked…?”

“I’m going to teach Raven a lesson once and for all.  And since I can’t be everywhere at once, _you_ are going to help me.”  Charles smirks at Wesley, who at the moment looks like a half-drowned blue cat, and says, “Now finish up your shower.  We’ve got a busy day ahead of us.”  He looks back over his shoulder at Wesley as he walks into the bedroom, adding, “Oh, and don’t bother getting dressed.”

 

A few minutes later, a still-very-pissed-off (but drier--and bluer) Wesley stalks into the bedroom.  “ _This_ is why you didn’t give me that lecture, isn’t it?  You lulled me into a false sense of security, so you could do _this_ to me.”  He waves his hand about, indicating his blue-ness.  He gives Charles a pissy look.  “And you _still_ plan on lecturing me, don’t you?”

“Oh, Wesley, you know me too well,” Charles says, breezily.

“Ass.”

"It's for a good cause, Wesley."

"I thought you made your point last night.  She did seem to get it, you know."

"Ah, but that was last night," Charles says.  "She'll have had time to think, to rally her defenses."  Looking petulant, he mutters, "Probably sat up with Erik all night, plotting their next course of action.  Well, they're not the only ones."

Wesley is a little disturbed by Charles's deviousness, but reluctantly impressed (and pleased to note that Charles is still pissed off at Erik).

“I am going to inundate Raven with nakedness until she’s ready to cover herself from chin to ankle, until she associates nudity with nausea.  She’s going to try to escape her punishment, of course, and since I can’t be everywhere at once YOU are the next best thing.”  He gives Wesley an accusing look, “It’s the least you can do, since I’ve had to raise her myself.”

Wesley feels a pang of shame at Charles’s words--that is, until he feels the waves of smug satisfaction Charles is emanating at having made his point so effectively.  So he says to Charles, “Well, I have to admit--that _is_ a very effective plan.”  Oh, yes--the smugness has reached intolerable levels by this point.  “But,” Wes adds,  “you forgot one thing, Charles…”

“Oh, and what would that be?”  Charles smirks.

“I’m going to be walking around naked in front of your boyfriend…”

At Charles’s suddenly-consternated expression, Wesley grins and sashays out of the room in all of his naked, blue glory.

 

 

 

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> ETA: I don't know if the Kool-aid thing in the shower head would actually work or if it's just urban legand--at least as far as staining one's skin that badly. Unfortunately, I do know that it will seriously jack up one's hair.


	4. 4

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Charles experiences a body image crisis after seeing Wesley naked--though, honestly, he's more concerned with the fact that Erik is going to make him start exercising now. Erik and Wes still hate each other. Charles is not as clueless as everyone assumes.

     “…naked in front of your boyfriend…”

 

_Oh shite_ _._   He _had_ forgotten _that_ little detail.  Charles bites nervously at his lip as Wesley prances out of the room--shitty little grin firmly in place.  Not that he’s worried or anything of course (Erik would _never_ …).  But seeing Wesley’s nearly-perfect (ok, _totally_ _perfect_ ), nude body in the cruel, mocking light of day _had_ brought to Charles’s attention that, while identical twins, Wesley is clearly the more, shall we say, _toned_ of the two.

It’s not as if Charles is out of shape.  _He’s not_.  He runs every day (because Erik _makes_ him, true--but it still counts).  Ok, so maybe he doesn’t have broad, muscular shoulders.  Or washboard abs.  Or muscular…well, anything really.  He comforts himself with the knowledge that one twin is always a little softer and smaller and more rounded (steadfastly ignoring that it’s usually the _younger_ twin, aka _not_ Charles).

Charles continues gnawing on his lip and stares pensively at his reflection in the mirror: flat stomach (maybe sucked in _just_ a little), no love-handles (yet), definitely a _very_ nice firm bottom.  He certainly has nothing to be ashamed of, right?  _Right?_ His shoulders slump and he sighs in defeat.  Who’s he kidding?  He’s a scrawny nerd with a nearly obsessive love of figure-friendly, comfy cardigans and an almost pathological hatred of exercise.  And worst of all, one of his two go-to excuses for evading Erik’s _constant_ attempts to make him exercise (an indulgently chuckled, _‘Now darling, I’m simply not genetically pre-disposed for that kind of body’_ ) is about to be forever lost to him.  Erik will never let up once he learns what Charles _could_ look like.

Then he smiles wickedly.  He’ll just have to use his _other_ excuse _all_ the time now:  Sex.  _“Exercise?  Oh, yes, we should, darling.  Oh? Have you been working on your arms, Erik?  You know, you’re looking_ very _fit, love…it’s getting me so hot…”_ Though not always convenient, that one works pretty much 100% of the time. And sex _is_ a sort of exercise… _if you do it right,_ Charles smirks.Feeling a little better, Charles checks out his bum in the mirror again.  _Yes, very nice indeed_.  Erik certainly likes it well enough--can‘t seem to keep his hands off of it, at any rate.  Charles grins at himself and slaps his ass.  _Definitely quality merchandise_.

“Need a moment with yourself Charles?”  Wesley asks dryly.

Charles nearly jumps out of his skin and spins around in guilty surprise.  Wesley is leaning against the doorway, smirking.  _I will_ never _live this down,_ Charles thinks.  “Er…um, no.  No, I was just, um…um…” he stammers.

“Getting ready to have sex with your reflection?”

Charles scowls at him, turning even more red (or purple rather, given the blue), “No! I was _not_!  I was just…just…um…”

“What?”  Wesley asks, mock-curiously--arms casually crossed, but shoulders already shaking with suppressed laughter.

_Fuck my life._ Charles could see only one way out of this:  he lets his eyes fill with tears.  “I was just trying to make myself feel better,” he sniffles convincingly, looking up through his lashes.  _Really, I should have been an actor,_ he thinks (careful not to project that thought) when Wesley immediately looks contrite and wraps his arms around Charles, pulling him into a fierce hug.

“Charles!  What’s wrong!?  Why would you need to make yourself feel better?  You‘re perfect the way you are!”  Then the hug tightens almost painfully, and Wesley growls, “It was _him,_ wasn’t it?!  That bastard said something to put you down, didn’t he?!  What did Erik say to you to make you feel bad about yourself?!  Just say the word and I’ll kill him for you!”  He’d planned on killing Erik anyway, of course--but _now_ , now he can do it and Charles won’t be mad at him.  Wesley should be angry that Charles was hurt, but he can’t help being elated at this opportunity.

“NO!  No!”  Charles wheezes frantically (the hug is a _little_ tight).  “Erik didn’t do or say anything to make me feel bad, I swear!”

Wesley’s hopes are dashed.  “He didn’t?” he asks, unable to hide his disappointment.

Charles gives him a curious look, “Why?  Did you _want_ him to?”

“No, of course not!”  Wesley lies.  “I just can’t imagine why you would feel bad about yourself.  Who would do that to you?”

“Well,” Charles looks a little guilty.  _I’m going to hell for this._ On the other hand, Wesley _did_ take off and leave for ten years… “it was actually _you_.”

Wesley looks completely shattered.  “Me!?” he says, hoarsely.

“Oh, Wesley, it’s not what you think!”  _I can’t do it._ Even to save his own arse, from humiliation, Charles can’t stand seeing that look on Wes’s face.  “I promise it’s not what you think!  It’s just what you said about being naked in front of Erik…--“

Wesley is almost in tears now.  “Charles, you know I didn’t mean that--I was just teasing you!  You know, because of the--” he holds a blue arm in front of Charles’s face.

This time it‘s Charles pulling Wesley into a hug.  “I know you didn’t mean it like that but, here, look at your body, then look at mine.”  Charles moves them to stand in front of the mirror.  He waves his hand at Wesley‘s reflection, “That’s going to make anyone self-conscious.”

Wesley looks at him, perplexed.  “But, Charles!  You look just like me!”

“Oh, Wes!  Maybe from the neck on up I do, but my body does _not_ look like _that_!  And I‘m sorry, but I can‘t help but feel a little self-conscious next to you.”

“Ok, so you _are_ leaner than me, but otherwise…” he shrugs.

Charles looks at their reflections.  “You really think so?” he asks, hopefully.

“Yeah, I do.  And, hey--we’re both identical where it counts, right?”  he grins and winks.  Then adds, dryly, “Though that little stunt you pulled with the Kool-Aid _does_ give a whole new meaning to the term ‘blue balls’…”

“I _told_ you that it was for a good cause!”

“Traumatizing our little sister?”

“Just imagine the look on her face, Wesley!  By the time we‘re done with her, she won‘t be willing to expose so much as an ankle!”  Charles projects an image into Wesley’s head of Raven completely bundled up, and they laugh hysterically, hugging each other for support.

Their hug is interrupted by a strangled noise coming from the doorway.  They look around to see Erik standing there staring at the two naked, blue brothers in each other‘s arms.  The look on Erik’s face:  priceless.

Wes is beginning to think that he may not have to kill Erik, after all.  The way it looks now, the other man is either going to strangle on his own spit or blow a blood vessel in pretty short order.  The look is his eyes is a combination of homicidal rage at (naked) Wesley hugging (naked) Charles, rampant lust at (naked) Wesley hugging (naked) Charles, and shock at the fact that they are both _blue_ (and _naked)_.  Given the scene before him, Erik has just cause for surprise,  Wesley supposes.  After all Wes and Charles are naked in each other’s arms and the bed is all rumpled (nothing happened there but sleep--but Erik doesn’t have to know that).

For fun, Wesley cuddles Charles a little closer and nuzzles his hair to watch the vein in Erik‘s forehead throb.  “Well, hello there… _Erik,_ is it?  Sleep well?  I certainly did.”  At Charles’s warning look, he adds reluctantly, “I really needed the rest.”

The vein throbs a little more slowly at Wesley’s add-on, and he finally manages to speak, and even sound civil.  “I know I’m going to regret this, but why are both _blue_?”

“It wasn’t voluntary.  At least on my part,” Wesley bitches.  “Charles, care to tell your friend, excuse me, _boy_ friend what you did to me and why?”  He hopes the subtle emphasis on _‘boy’_ was not lost on Erik.  Nope--the vein in Erik’s forehead has kicked up pace again.  Ah, good!  He would have hated to waste a perfectly good insult.

The look in Erik’s eyes is saying, “I’m going to fucking kill you as soon Charles is distracted.”

The look in Wesley’s eyes is saying the same.  Taking into consideration the look on Erik’s face when he saw Charles and him together, Wes is pretty sure that Erik now means fucking _then_ killing.  Wesley’s not so sure that he doesn’t mean the same.

They are both dismayed and relieved that Charles is completely oblivious--nattering on about his plans to keep Raven swathed in yards of fabric, and laughing about turning Wesley blue--confident in the fact that because he loves them both that Wesley and Erik are now the best of friends.

They might as well be shouting their thoughts out loud as far as Charles is concerned.

_Idiots,_  he thinks, affectionately.  _But they’ll learn_.

 

Wesley suddenly breaks off death-glaring at Erik and turns to Charles.  "Oh, I almost forgot!  The game!"

"The game?" Erik asks, confused at the way Charles's eyes light up.

"Oh, yes!  The game!  And, look Wes!  We're even the right color!"  Charles laughs at Wesley's disruntled expression.

Erik is still puzzled.  Charles runs the other direction at the very notion of anything to do with fitness, exercise, or sports.  "Game?" he repeats.  "Cards?"

They look at each other and double over with laughter.  _"Cards!"_ they snicker.  And start laughing again.  "That's so funny!  _Cards!"_

Erik is starting to get a little pissed off.  Even their nakedness isn't enough to distract him now.  "What the fuck are you two talking about?"

Two identical sets of blue, blue eyes look at him disbelievingly.  "The _GAME_ , Erik!  The Final Four!"

Erik stares incomprehensingly.  Crickets.

Charles rolls his eyes.  "Basketball..." the "duh" unspoken, but clearly there.  "It's the Final Four.  The semi-finals for the national basketball championships...?  NCAA...?  The game that decides who plays for the national title...?"

Erik feels like he's fallen down a rabbit-hole.  Charles talking sports!? 

"He doesn't get it Charles."  The contempt is clear in Wesley's voice.   Then to his own surprise he says, "He'll just have to watch it with us."  He can feels the waves of joy and contentment rolling off of Charles.  Erik looks a little surprised, but oddly pleased.

"I'll tell Raven to get the popcorn and snacks ready, and Erik can get the booze."

"We can go too, Charles.  This is the one day of the year besides Halloween that we could go out like this."  Wes waves a hand at his and Charles's blue selves. Then he grins, "Besides--we need to go get some 'Cat ears."

Charles and Wesley laugh when Erik makes that strangling noise again.  "Why cat ears?" he manages to grit out, clearly in danger of having a stroke (his mind having 'gone there').

"Because of our team!" Charles says.

"The Kentucky Wildcats!"  Wes and Charles chorus.  "Go 'CATS!!!!"

 

     

 

 

 


End file.
